An Unexpected Ally
by MegAnos
Summary: When Draco Malfoy stood before an unarmed Albus Dumbledore with his wand ready, he was offered the chance to change sides. Many conflicts arise, new friendships form and barvery is not an option. Here unfolds the tale of a Death Eater turned good and the
1. A letter home

"**Come to the good side, Draco"**

_Dear Father,_

_I have gone and am probably never to return. I am sorry that I have shamed you. I could not live up to your expectations. When it came time to complete the task placed in front of me by the Dark Lord, I could not find it in myself to do it. Killing is not as easy as it looks. My options were either to die or to flee. I chose to flee._

_I was offered help and I accepted it. I did not dare stick around, so with the assistance of some, my death was staged. I knew that it would not come as a sock to anyone that I had died attempting to murder Albus Dumbledore, one of most powerful wizards in the whole world._

_I feared that when the Dark Lord heard tell that I could not fulfill his mission he would harm mother or you. This was utterly unbearable. To flee was my only option. Please understand, father. I did not mean to be a disgrace to the family name._

_Tell mother I love her and I shall miss her and that I am sorry._

_Your son,_

_Draco_

Lucius Malfoy crumpled the letter in his hand. His son was, in his eyes, the worst kind of traitor there ever was and deserved to feel the wrath of the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Fleeing in the face of danger—pitiful, Lucius thought. Any servant to the Dark Lord would have been honored to carry out his mission. Greatly rewarded are those who accomplish the work of their master.

"Lucius," called a woman with sleek blonde hair. "What's that you have?"

"Just trash, Narcissia," he drawled.

His wife had been grieving the death of her son since the attack at Hogwarts. Lucius did not know if he would tell her that he was alive. He was much to bitter to bring it up now.

Narcissa fixed tea for her husband and herself and took a seat across from him. "Lucius," she said placing her hands on his, "I'm worried about you." She had been concerned about him since his return home from Azkaban. He had acted indifferent toward Draco's death. Lucius had become very moody: angry one moment, the next cool and calm. Never happy, though. He had never been a particularly happy person. Aside from his attitude, she feared he would be persecuted by the Dark Lord. He did not seem to worry much about this either.

"Oh, stop it Narcissa—you're being ridiculous," he snapped back at her.

"You're in danger!" Her eyes were welling up with tears. Her husband just watched her expressionless.

"Please understand," she sobbed, "I don't want to loose you, too."

"For God's sake, Narcissa," he said softly and then retreated up the stairs.

Narcissa sat, her face buried in her hands, sobbing. _Why?_ She wondered. Why did it have to be Draco? _Her_ Draco. How she missed him and Lucius did not even seem to care. Perhaps he had seen their son's death as a weakness. He had never tolerated weakness. Or perhaps he was still under the effects of the dementors at Azkaban. He _had_ been there only weeks ago.

There was something else bother her about Draco's death. It was that no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that he was gone forever, she couldn't make herself believe it. She just didn't _feel_ as if he were dead. Though she knew it was impossible, something in her made her believe that he was alive somewhere. This thought was killing her more than the death itself.

Draco, however, was not the only one killed that night. It had been printed all over the _Daily Prophet_. A couple of students had died as well as the Professor, Severus Snape.

Snape had promised not to let Draco die—that if Draco somehow could not fulfill his mission, Snape would finish it for him. He had taken the Unbreakable Vow. Now they were dead. Both of them. It had been nothing more than a waste. Dumbledore was still alive, the Dark Lord was angry and people had died.


	2. Loneliness in the Old House of Black

Draco sat in the desolate home formerly belonging to his grandmother Black. The house was temporarily in use by the Order of the Phoenix. Of course, it was rare that anyone come for a reason other than to keep watch of him or merely to keep him company. It was here that the Order had plot against his fellow Death Eaters. It was here they had plot against himself, his father: his _family._ They had shown such hospitality toward him, but none of it seemed right to Draco. It did not seem right at all. How could he betray his family in such a way? How could he commit such treachery against his friends? He felt so deceitful and fearful, yet amidst his uncertainty, there was a small sense of relief.

It had only been a week since that night in which he had stood over Albus Dumbledore's body, his wand ready. The anxiety of coming to that situation had been weighing on him like a brick for months. He had gotten ill over the very thought of it. And that night had come a week ago. Extremely dangerous wizards had entered Hogwarts that night because he, Draco Malfoy, had made it possible. Even Fenrir Greyback had come. Draco had put his own friends in jeopardy and the guilt of this tore at his conscience. There had been deaths—his teacher had died. Now, here he sat hiding in number twelve Grimmauld Place for fear of the Dark Lord's wrath. Frightening as it was to be hiding from Voldemort, there was great relief in Draco. Yet another emotion weighed in his heart.

This life of confinement was a very isolating one. He was extremely lonely and was without a single friend. The past week could not have felt longer to Draco. Luckily it was summer and he didn't have to be alone for too much of the time. He dreaded the start of term when he would be left to himself and confined much more than now. He was pained by the thought of not returning to Hogwarts, so he forced it from his mind. Draco stood and walked mechanically to the window, staring out into the world so oblivious of its freedom. _You are free_, he reminded himself. You are free…


	3. A Return to the Burrow

"But Professor-," a boy with a tangle of black hair and glasses shouted loudly.

"—you will be returning to Hogwarts, Harry. That is the end of the conversation," said the old headmaster firmly.

Harry pursed his lips and stormed away fuming. Dumbledore had no right to tell him what to do. He would be of age at the end of July. He wasn't required to finish his education.

"Harry he's right, you know," said his friend Hermione touching his shoulder. He shrugged her off. "Hermione, I don't want your input right now," he said crossly.

"It is _very_ important that you complete your education. You can't just go traipsing off to kill V-voldemort. It is _too_ dangerous. Please, Harry, listen to me."

"She's right, mate." His other best friend Ron Weasley joined the conversation.

He turned and rounded on Ron. "Taken her side now, have you? I have done _everything_ Dumbledore has asked of me. I even went back to the Dursley's because he asked me to!"

Ron's ears went pink and he muttered, "I haven't taken anyone's side."

"Haven't taken sides? I suppose you've been snogging with _me_ too, have you? You two are so caught up with each other that you don't have time for me anymore, so neither of _you_ has the right to boss _me_ around!"

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears. "Harry, we only—!"

"Want to help? Well, you're doing a lousy job of showing it. Do either of you know what it's like? Do you know what it's like to have the fate of the entire world on your shoulders? Voldemort is back and he's getting stronger every second and the only one who can destroy him is me."

"Harry," Hermione said gingery, touching his shoulder.

"We know," said Ron, "and we'll be there right beside you, mate. We always have been."

Harry, whose chest had been rising and falling rapidly, began to calm down. "I'm sorry," he said after a short pause.

"Harry, it's okay. Nothing is going to change between us, I promise. Please, you have to come back to Hogwarts. We need you—Ginny needs you."

"Yeah, well, I suppose I don't have a choice."

The doorknob twisted and the head of a very attractive young girl with long red hair popped in. "Did I hear my name?"

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said in a friendly tone.

She entered and looked around at Harry. "Harry! I thought you weren't coming until August. When did you arrive?" She ran up to hug him.

"He just came in a few hours ago," Ron answered.

"I-er needed to get out."

"I can only imagine," Ginny said taking a seat next to Harry. "We've all missed you so much. Mum was in a fuss over you. She's been worried sick, you know? -Couldn't settle until you were here with us."

"Speaking of it, Hermione, why are you here so soon?" Harry inquired.

"Harry, you _know_ how much is going on right now. I couldn't stay there; I was too worried about everything."

"Hear, Hear," Harry and Ron chorused.

"Welcome back, Harry," said Ginny.

"Welcome back, mate," said Ron.


	4. A walk in the garden

The next few days glided by with reasonable ease. Harry's mood seemed to brighten and conversation was filled with laughter. How wonderful it was to be with his best friends and Ginny. He always rather enjoyed staying at the burrow.

It was mid afternoon, when Harry was sitting in Ron's room finally thinking about the events which had unfolded before his own eyes only weeks before. He had left the school grounds with Dumbledore, in search of a horcrux, in which Voldemort had placed a fraction of his soul. …but it had not been a horcrux that we had found. Instead it was a fake and the only clue he had was a note from someone called "R.A.B." _Who is R.A.B?_ Did even Dumbledore know? _Dumbledore!_ Slight panic shot through Harry. He had completely forgotten to tell Dumbledore about the letter. He had been in retched condition at the time Harry had found it. _How could I have been so stupid?_ Harry asked himself incredulously.

There was a soft knock at the door and a young female's voice called in. "Harry?" Ginny came in. "Hello, Harry. I saw that Ron and Hermione were both downstairs, so I came to check on you," she said cheerfully.

"Oh, well, I'm fine. Thanks," he said dazedly.

"Harry, what's the matter?" she asked taking note of his lack of spirit.

"Nothing, Ginny. I've just started-er… thinking about things, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I do, trust me," She said sympathetically. "But don't trouble yourself just yet because in a few days we'll be in the new headquarters for the order and there won't be any more fun and games."

"I need to see Dumbledore."

"Don't worry, we'll see him really soon."

"No, I need to see Dumbledore—now."

Ginny sat next to Harry and took his hand. "You know very well that we cannot reach him again until he secures the Order's new establishment. Now, Harry, why don't we go for a walk?"

"I dunno, Ginny. I just—"

"Come along," she said and lead him out of the room.

Her hands always felt wonderful to Harry. Hers were so warm and small while his own were large and cold. He loved everything about her. He loved the way she walked and the way her face lit up when she smiled. He loved the way she spoke and the way her hair flowed behind her. She was so perfect. _Don't let me ruin her_. Harry thought_. Don't let me ever ruin her._

After walking down a flowery path for a short while in silence, Ginny spoke up. "Harry, what is it?"

"It's nothing important."

"Don't you dare give me that rubbish. I _know_ that something is on your mind, Harry, I know you."

"I need to talk to Dumbledore," He said. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but just as soon stopped herself.

"I need to talk to Dumbledore and show him a note that I found on that day we left Hogwarts."

"The day of the catastrophe…"

"But I can't speak with Dumbledore because no one will tell me where the bloody hell he is—."

"No one _knows_ where he is, Harry—."

"And I really need to talk to Sirius, but I can't see him either."

"Harry, I am sure that it will be just fine if you show him the note, when we next see him. It's not going to evaporate."

"Yes, but you see, it isn't just about the note. I haven't heard a single thing about what's been going on with Voldemort. I _need_ to know these things, Ginny; you _know_ all that's happened this past year."

" I know," she said looking up at him."

"These things were so much easier when Sirius was around."

"I know you miss him an awful lot."

"I do," said Harry into the breeze.

"None of these things are in our control. We just have to wait until we _can_ do something, but right now we can't. Harry, I _know_ this is hard for you. Believe me. It's difficult for me too."

She kissed him on the cheek and started back. He stared at the never ending hills for a moment and then turned and gazed at the beautiful girl walking away. He followed her home.

When they returned to the burrow, Mrs. Weasley was making dinner, Ron was playing chess with Bill, who had presumably just arrived home, and Hermione was reading a book, while Crookshanks was snug in her lap.

"Harry, Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Where have you two been? It's almost time for supper. Now come into the kitchen and get yourselves washed up."

"Yes, mum," answered Ginny, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Harry looked around at his occupied friends and suddenly felt very alone. He needed someone who could help him. Perhaps he could talk to Mr. Weasley.

He found Mr. Weasley upstairs in his bedroom. "Mr. Weasley," Harry called, "Could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Harry, my boy," Mr. Weasley said. "What can I do for you?"

"Well… I was just wondering….erm…"

"Well, go on, son"

"Yeah, right…erm… you see. I was wondering when I could next speak with Dumbledore. There's sort of something I need to tell him"

"What sort of thing, Harry?"

"Mr. Weasley, do the initials R.A.B. mean anything to you?"

"No, I don't suppose they do. I'm sorry. Why do you ask?"

"I don't suppose you have... Well, sorry to bother you. We'd better go to supper."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," Harry said and headed down the stairs.


End file.
